


If

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: A Christmas Eve op...





	

London was quiet as Doyle looked out over The Smoke from the roof of Guys Hospital. It was Christmas Eve. Snow swirled in carefree circles around Doyle while the cold wind tugged playfully on the ends of his tartan scarf. Annoyed, he pulled the scarf tighter and tucked it into his jacket. Large wet flakes danced joyfully in the night air settling themselves cosily in his tousled curls and clinging to his already moist eyelashes. A cold-reddened hand angrily wiped at his face. _Bloody Bodie._ The beauty and peace of the gentle snowfall was wasted on him. 

He sighed as the previous hours rolled through his mind. He absently studied the fog of his breath as it hung in the chill air only to see it disappear in the winter breeze. The mission had been a success – almost. Cowley had got his man, the arms had been collected, the money secured – and Bodie - _Bloody Bodie._ He closed his eyes and tipped his head towards the sky as he remembered...

 

Harrison’s voice rang out through the yard after the last of the sounds of violence had faded into the now quiet night. “All secure, sir.” 

“CI5 stand down,” Cowley ordered after another several minutes of stillness.

Bodie detached himself from the shadowed doorway of the warehouse where he’d taken cover and ran to meet up with Doyle. He bumped Doyle’s shoulder and rubbed his hands together with gleeful anticipation. “Looks like we will get the evening off after all, mate! And I have plans for a not so silent night!”

“Oh you do, do you?” Doyle returned the bump.

“Definitely. And it’s not visions of sugar plums that are dancing in my head!” Bodie leered – his gaze raking over Doyle from head to foot. “Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you glad to see me?”

“Bodie!” Doyle pushed Bodie’s wandering hand off his arse. “Behave.” He tipped his head up to greet the mischievous light in his partner’s eyes. “What’ve you got planned then, Father Christmas?”

Bodie replaced his hand. “There’s stuffing to be done and crackers to pull, my son.” 

Doyle chuckled darkly. “Not to mention Yule logs to light up and baubles to be decorated.”

A noise from above had them both reaching for their weapons. A single gunshot rang through the bitter air. 

Doyle whirled around quickly and fired a shot towards the roof of the warehouse as Bodie crashed into him, pinning him to the ground.

He knew he’d missed. Bodie’s attempt to push him out of the way had spoiled his shot. 

“Get an ambulance!” Doyle shouted, freeing himself from Bodie’s weight. “Bodie’s down.”

“Not necessary, sunshine. I’m all right.” Bodie’s shaky voice was not reassuring.

Murphy called out, “Shooter is making for the fire escape.”

Doyle wiped at the blood running down Bodie’s forehead. 

Cowley came to stand over them. “4.5. You and Anson bring that man in. On your bikes.”

Doyle stood up and opened his mouth to protest. The look in the Scotsman’s emotionless eyes froze the words in his throat. _The job comes first, Doyle. Always._ Another test.

Bodie sat up gingerly. “Give me a hand, eh, Doyle?”

“You’re not going anywhere but to hospital,” Cowley said. He turned to Doyle. “Get moving, man. I’ll see to 3.7.”

Without looking back, Doyle ran after Anson and the two men disappeared around the warehouse in time to see their quarry duck down a side alley. 

_Too many spots to hide,_ Doyle noted to himself, seeing the piled up rubbish and old cars lining the street. He signaled to Anson to take the left side of the road. 

“Down!” Doyle heard Anson’s warning just as a series of shots kicked up the tarmac where he’d been standing. None of the shots reached either agent. Ducking behind a dustbin he returned fire. When Anson began shooting, he reloaded his gun. Scraping at the dried blood on his fingers and remembering the cold feeling in his chest when he saw Bodie go down, he began a murmured litany of disapproval. “Damn you and your fucking protective streak, Bodie. What’d you go and do that for? I had the bloody bastard, you pillock. There was no need for you to leap in front of the soddin’ bullet -”

The click of the R/T in his pocket snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“This is 4.5, go ahead.”

“Anson here. I’m behind the bastard. I’m going to drive him towards you. You’ll hear the shots.”

“I’ll be ready. 4.5, out.”

Doyle listened for the gunfire. Footsteps pounded towards him and he pushed the dustbin out into the street. It connected with the runner, knocking him off his feet. Doyle rose kicking the man’s gun across the road. He smiled down at his prisoner and simply said “You’re nicked.”

 

Surrounded by his agents, Cowley scowled as Doyle marched towards him. The Controller held out a hand to stop him and looked surprised when his agent passed him by without a word. Doyle grabbed Harrison by the throat and delivered a solid punch to the man’s jaw. He threw him to the ground and delivered a kick to the downed man’s ribs. Murphy and Jax grabbed hold of Doyle and pulled him away. It took a third CI5 man to finally hold him.

“All clear, eh?” Doyle’s eyes blazed with anger as he snarled at Harrison. “Tell that to Bodie.” He freed an arm and pointed to where the medics were tending to his partner. He shrugged off the hold the other agents had on him and moved close to Harrison who was now on his feet. A stiff finger angrily poked at Harrison’s chest. “If Bodie had died-” Doyle’s voice cracked. “I’ll be -”

“Enough, Doyle!” Cowley shouted. He stepped in between the two men. Harrison looked scared, Doyle was pleased by that. “There is still work to be done here. 4.5, you and Jax will secure the scene. Murphy, you will drive me to the hospital.”

Doyle drew in a sharp breath to protest. After receiving an icy glare from Cowley, he bit down on his lower lip and muttered, “Yes, sir.”

 

Half an hour later, Jax put a hand on Doyle’s shoulder and sighed. “I think we’re done here, Ray. We’ve collected all the evidence.” He looked around the crime scene. “I’ll stay while the MET takes it from here. Get yourself off to Guy’s.” 

Doyle hesitated.

“Go on. I’ll cover with Cowley for you.”

Doyle nodded. “Thanks, mate. I owe you one.”

“More than one,” Jax responded, but Doyle was already running to his car.

 

Doyle slowly opened the door to the treatment room where Bodie was being examined by the doctor. He didn’t enter the room. Nurses surrounded the bed and while he couldn’t see Bodie, he could hear his smooth talking partner chatting up the sisters. Doyle’s stomach clenched and he backed out of the room. He started to move quickly down the hallway and ran into Murphy.

“Ray?”

Doyle waved him off.

“Bodie is going to be okay.” Murphy called after him. “Doctor says he just needs a couple of stitches. Must’ve smacked his head on the tarmac when he fell. Looks a lot worse than it is. He’ll be released in a few hours. Ray?” 

Doyle just kept walking. Thankfully Murphy didn’t say another word. Doyle entered the stairwell, the door slamming shut behind him.

 

...Hours later the snow was coming down harder and was sticking to the streets below Doyle’s perch on the hospital roof. A rare white Christmas then, he thought, without much joy. He should be happy. They’d taken weapons and militants off the street so the city below him could sleep peacefully this night. Bodie was safe. But had the possible cost been worth it?

If he’d lost Bodie...

If Harrison had done his job...

If they’d been paying attention instead of trying to get each other going...

If he’d been quicker... 

_’If. Life in a word’_ , Bodie’s voice filled his head. But if he had lost Bodie today, what kind of life would be left for him? 

He heard the stairwell door open, but didn’t turn around. He knew from the rhythm of the approaching footsteps who it was. His hands curled into fists as he waited for Bodie to make the first move. He didn’t trust himself to do it. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Warm breath ghosted across the chilled flash at the back of his neck and strong arms wrapped around his chest. The ice surrounding his heart melted just a little and some of his anger drained away.

“Bastard.”

“Sorry?”

“You should be!”

“Doyle?” 

“Only you can get away with this, you know.” Doyle turned in Bodie’s embrace. He gripped the edges of the lapels of Bodie’s coat and shook the man. “I’m all ready to rip you apart for that stunt earlier today and you go and apologise before I even get a chance to yell at you!”

“Sorr-”

Doyle stopped the words with a kiss.

When his lips were freed, Bodie asked “What’re you doing up here?”

Doyle ran his hands over Bodie’s back and rested his forehead against Bodie’s. “Needed to think.”

Bodie stepped back and rolled his eyes. “That’s definitely trouble – and it would explain all the dark clouds hanging over the hospital.”

Doyle shivered. _If only I didn’t love the prat so much...if only I didn’t need him...that word again._ “How did you find me?”

“Murphy saw you and your black cloud heading up the stairs.”

Doyle reached up and lightly ran a finger along the edge of the plaster adorning Bodie’s temple. “You all right?”

Bodie’s arms tightened around him. “I’ve a bit of a headache, but otherwise, never better. Doc said I could go home if there was someone there to watch over me. I knew you’d be willing.” 

Bodie’s smile melted a bit more of the ice inside him and his eyes burned.

“Christ, Bodie. If I’d lost you...”

“Didn’t happen. Don’t borrow trouble, Ray. Tonight is not a night for asking _what-if?_ " Bodie’s lips met Doyle’s in a long, deep kiss. He released Doyle and spread his arms wide to encompass their view of the city below. “It’s Christmas, it’s snowing and we’re together. Tonight is a night to be thankful for _what-is._ ”

Doyle leaned in for another kiss. 

Bodie obliged him and then turned them both towards the stairs. “I believe that I said I had plans for you.”

“Going to introduce me to Santa’s little helper, are you?”

“Oi!” Bodie pouted. “Not so much of the little, Raymond.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to macklingirl and freetraveller15!


End file.
